Goodbye, Superman

If I made a list of things that could never happen, sitting in my parents living room, hearing the paramedics tell us that they've tried unsuccessfully for over ten minutes to get my dad breathing again and that bringing him to the hospital would be futile would be number one on that list.  My dad was my hero.  He was bigger than Superman and stronger than the Hulk; completely invincible.  Despite all of his health problems and hospital visits he always seemed to bounce back bigger and better than before.  His amazingly positive attitude was unshakable.  My dad never let anything bring him down and I often turned to him to draw from his joy.

Losing my dad has been the greatest loss I’ve ever experienced in my life.  The moment he was gone, a cord between us was severed that I never knew existed.  This cord ran deep and in the short time that has passed, I find myself daily grasping for some semblance of it to re-attach to my heart. I long for the day when the struggle isn’t so desperate. 

As we grieve together, I treasure the moments that I’m reminded of the small details, his personality, and his love.  On the afternoon of his passing, close friends and family came together at his home.  The day was long and we were all tired, but no one could bring themselves to leave.  We all wanted to be where he lived and loved.  We were supposed to celebrate his granddaughter Kemara’s sixteenth birthday in Ojai.  Instead, we celebrated his life as if he were still right there with us; Martha brought over burgers and her famous macaroni salad, Rich barbecued, Sue chopped veggies, etc.  It was just what he wanted. 

We sat and reminisced about the man we loved the most.  With every new story, I learned something new about my dad; how he daily kept $7 in his pocket for anyone who asked, how he regularly manned the Information Booth on Sunday mornings at Living Faith Center, how he cleaned my brother and sister’s childhood room by opening the window and throwing everything into the backyard.  A better time of solace couldn’t have been planned.